


An Unlikely Reunion

by thenewdejavu



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Heartbreak, Lots of alcohol comsumption, Multi, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Panic At The Disco (Band), Reunions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-05-07 14:11:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5459297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenewdejavu/pseuds/thenewdejavu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryden reunites after Panic! breaks up and Brendon suddenly has to choose between Sarah and Ryan</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic and a work in progress! I'm a very busy college student so uploading is going to be all over the place. Please leave a comment if you read this or like it, I'm very new to writing fic and encouragement is appreciated! Thanks for stopping by.

CHAPTER 1: Brendon sighed and stared at his friend. Spencer was in tears and shaking but had a strong, quiet look in his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled out before breaking down again.

Brendon reached out a hand to Spencer, gripping his shoulder, before pulling him into a full bear hug. Spencer shuddered against him, holding on like Brendon was the anchor in the shit storm that had recently become his life. 

Brendon tightened his grip on his old friend. He was upset, rightfully so, but he knew this was the best for Spence. He’d seen the hollow circles under Spencer’s eyes, smelled the alcohol on his breath in the past year, and Brendon knew it was only a matter of time. So he gave him an ultimatum: clean yourself up, whether that meant rehab or not, or no more Panic! Little did he know, Spencer would have to leave Panic! anyway.

The program Spencer had found was the best in the nation for alcohol and prescription drug abuse. After that heartbreaking talk with him, Brendon had guided him to the rehab center. The only problem? It was a months-long program states away. Brendon didn’t want Spencer hurrying through rehab to get back to the band, and they both knew touring was when Spencer was the worst; the constant after-parties, the casual beers onstage that turned into cases of beer afterwards, and the pills. The pills that Spencer needed to sleep, the pills that Spencer needed for anxiety, the pills Spencer needed for anything else combined with the dangerous amounts of alcohol.

So, for the greater good, Spencer and Brendon decided it was best if Spencer left. They posted the announcements, received the well-wishes (and upset, teary letters) from fans, and went through the motions. But it didn’t feel real up until now. They still hung out, they still made music and texted daily about funny moments and put the thought out of their minds. But it was here now, time to face the music, as Brendon’s grandma always said.

Standing in the airport with Spencer’s plane boarding soon, Brendon gave his life-long friend one final hug and choked back tears. It was real. He was really leaving. 

“Dude,” Brendon choked out. “Don’t be sorry. I’m so glad you’re going, you really need this. I promise it’s going to be okay, okay? Make the most of it and get healthy and don’t forget I’m always here if you need anything…” Brendon realized he was rambling and scrubbed at his eyes, wiping away his tears. 

“Section one may begin boarding.”

“Shit, that’s me,” Spencer laughed through his tears. For the first time in a long time he looked fully alert, his eyes no longer lazy and clouded. Brendon was so, so proud of him for doing this. But that’s not like it didn’t hurt, didn’t hurt like hell to see his best friend and bandmate leaving.

Spencer picked up his suitcase, fumbled with his ticket, gave Brendon one last look, and walked into the tunnel towards the plane. Brendon stared at the spot where he disappeared for a moment before turning and walking to the parking lot, his heart heavy.

\--  
The magnitude of the situation hit Brendon when he was driving home. He was listening to his favorite station when:

“Aaaaand here’s an oldie but a goodie! Remember when this song came out ages ago? God, I used to jam to this in my car. This band actually just split, I believe, with their drummer going to rehab. So sad. Anyway, you’re listening to 90.3 WBGQ, here’s “Nine in the Afternoon” by Panic! at the Disco!”

That all too familiar opening burst of sound hit and Brendon began to sob. He remembered back when they were just young kids fucking around in the studio, high off the buzz their first album had generated (and high off something else too.) Spencer had Jon had collaborated on something, stoned out of their minds, and suddenly what would be their hit single off the album was forming. Then it really came into play, the paisley, the colorful suits, the strange music videos of them frolicking on the hillsides. It was a bittersweet time, though. The band was together, Spencer, Jon, and Ryan.

Ryan.

Brendon’s heart ached more than he ever thought possible when he thought of his used-to-be best friend. They were inseparable, and when the split happened they’d stayed in touch at first but then fizzled out. Now he hadn’t seen him in years and didn’t even know his phone number to contact him.

Brendon drove along the interstate, reminiscing and sad. All those times in the tour bus together, young and dumb. They’d always been closer than normal friends, and physical boundaries didn’t exist. Brendon remembered the times he’d come home wasted, climb up in Ryan’s bunk, and snuggle until he passed out. All the energy onstage when they’d tease the fans and each other with not-quite kisses and provocative hip grinding. 

“Nine in the Afternoon” was interrupted by Brendon’s phone ringing through the car’s speakers. 

“Hello?” he sniffled. 

“Hi baby,” Sarah said back. Brendon found himself smiling anyway, despite his tears. God, he loved that woman. She was at her parents’ house in Montana for the month, helping with some legal issues involving the will. Brendon was to fly out later this week, he had to stay to see Spencer off. Sleeping alone every night was horrible, and he was eagerly counting down the days until he could see her again.

“How was it?” his fiancé asked sadly.

“Horrible, to tell you the truth. I cried like a fucking baby. I can’t believe he’s gone, and I’m so happy for him, but that’s it. What’s Panic! going to be like now? I know he needs to be so much healthier and happier and I’m really glad for him but I’m so lonely now, so fucking lonely.”

“Oh honey, you’re flying out in a week! And I promise it’s going to get better. Your band is tough, and why don’t you call up Dallon again? Or Butch Walker? I’m sure they’d both love to help you out. It won’t be the end, darling. My parents miss you too, we’re all very anxious for you to get here!”

Brendon took a turn and was getting closer to home. He pulled into the parking garage attached to their large apartment and sat in the car.

“Well that’s good,” he said. “Sorry babe, don’t mean to bring you down. Send my love, tell them I miss them too. I’ve gotta go, I’m home now. Love you.”

“Love you too babe.”

\--

Brendon was so drunk and he felt so good. He was at his favorite bar in LA, pounding back beers and taking shots like no one’s business. The last time he’d been this drunk was on the Pretty. Odd. tour and he’d woken up the next morning to Jon thrusting a water bottle at him and yelling at him for throwing up in the bus.

But Jon wasn’t here now and Brendon didn’t have anything to do tomorrow morning, so he kept going. Plus the band that was playing actually didn’t suck. They riled up the crowds and Brendon felt like a teenager for the first time in ages: free, drunk, and happy.

He spun back to the bar and stumbled—who fucked with the gravity? C’mon guys, that’s not a nice thing to do—and shouted “One more!” at the bartender, pointing at his beer. He threw his head back and started to down the last of his current beer when someone bumped into him, causing him to spill down the front of his shirt.

He whirled around, laughing, wondering who in the world did it when his eyes met the same pair of honeyed eyes he hadn’t seen in years.

He was there. This was really happening. He was still very skinny, with floppy brunette hair accentuating his boyish face. There was no way this man didn’t get carded as soon as he walked in. But there was a new hardness to his jawline that showed this wasn’t the same 18-year-old boy Brendon once used to cuddle with.

But none of that mattered. Brendon’s stomach dropped to the floor because really, who just shows up like that? It was very rude to come out of nowhere, just once your life was together, and come fuck it up all over again. 

“…hello?” 

Brendon finally realized through his drunken haze that this boy (man?) was talking to him, and shook his head. “Ryan…what? What the fuck are you doing here?” Brendon yelled over the noise.

Ryan Ross looked at him sheepishly and talked to his feet. “Oh, hey Brendon…I…um…” It was so loud in the bar and Ryan wasn’t exactly shouting. Drunk, Brendon grabbed Ryan’s wrist and pulled him through the bar to the door reaching outside. Even though Brendon was drunk and upset, a little thrill shot through him at the feel of Ryan’s skinny wrist in his grasp.

Whirling around outside the bar, Brendon pressed up to Ryan, backing him against the wall. Moving too fast wasn’t a good idea in Brendon’s current condition, and Ryan gave him the same look he used to give him when he got too drunk: a mixture of disappointment and pity, and he reached out his hand to steady Brendon.

Brendon stared him down. “Speak.”

Ryan sighed. “Honestly I wasn’t planning on running into you, okay? I’d…well, I’d heard about Spencer and I wanted to come see him off. But I didn’t have his phone number and I got off work late and I think I’ve missed him, so I was just coming to have a beer and head back home.”

Brendon slumped against the wall and slid down to the ground. Ryan paused and crouched (much more gracefully) down and sat next to him. Brendon looked at him sadly. 

“Yeah. So you heard. It was bad, he was bad. Remember how I used to be the drunken, fun one? Yeah, Spence took that role over and he took it hard. I barely used to see him sober. I was so worried about him.” 

Ryan sighed again and let his head thump back against the wall. “Fuck, man. He was so good. Always so in control. And I’m over here feeling like the biggest ass because the man was my friend and I haven’t even talked to him in years.”

“That makes two people you didn’t talk to,” Brendon mumbled. It just slipped out, he didn’t mean for Ryan to know how much he’d hurt him over the year of silence. “Why, Ross? I know the split happened and we talked for a while after that, but then you just…I don’t know man, you disappeared on me. How could you do that, man?”

Ryan at least had the decency to look guilty. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I got super busy working at the firm, and I fucked up. I couldn’t stand to see you guys still happy and making music without me. I’ll be honest, it hurt. But I shouldn’t have dropped you like that. I’m sorry, Bren.”

Brendon almost flinched at the use of his old nickname. He bumped his knee against Ryan’s and moved a little closer. “It’s okay. I just missed you, you know? You just left and I couldn’t handle it.”

Ryan looked over at him in sadness and made a move to get up. “Well—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Brendon yelled, grabbing Ryan’s hand. “Can you stay? I’m lonely and we just started talking again. I’d like to see what’s been going on in the enigma that is Ryan Ross’s life.” When he grabbed for Ryan’s hand his fingers slid perfectly in between Ryan’s and he offered him a smirk. Ryan blushed and fumbled a bit before standing up.

“Okay, yeah. I owe you that. But c’mon, we’re not going to sit outside and catch up when there’s a fully stocked bar inside.” He returned Brendon’s smirk with his own impish grin that Brendon totally ate up. Fingers still linked together, Ryan hoisted Brendon to his feet. Wobbling and unsteady at first, Brendon gripped Ryan’s hand tighter until he gained his balance. But even then, he held Ryan’s hand for just a minute longer than necessary. 

The two long-lost friends turned and entered the bar.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2—“And, and, and,” Brendon broke into laughter, practically lying on the bar. “And then, Spencer looks at this chick right? And he goes ‘Wait, I thought he was the manager!’”

Ryan thumped his hand on the bar and let loose that adorable giggle. It was well past midnight now and the band had stopped playing an hour ago, but Brendon and Ryan had barely noticed. They were too deep in conversation, talking all over the place and catching up. Brendon had noticed how Ryan’s laugh was still the same, still that lovely musical sound. Everything about Ryan Ross was musical, whether it be his laugh or the ticking of his wristwatch. He constantly made music; it absorbed him.

Brendon wondered whether the lyrics still burst out of him like they used to. So many times he’d found his friend deep in thought, scribbling lyrics in a dingy, coffee-stained notebook and he wouldn’t want to interrupt him. Ryan’s lyrics flowed out of him like they were coming from his soul.  
`  
The bartender, a beautiful twentysomething with impressive breasts, turned to them. Normally Brendon would have looked—he’s a man, he enjoys beautiful women but never enough to say something rude—but this time, those eyes were too busy looking into Ryan’s. “Sorry boys, I’m going to have to kick you out now. Last call happened a half hour ago,” she said.

Ryan pulled out his phone and checked the time. “Holy fuck bro,” he laughed. “It’s 2:30! How did it get so late?”

Brendon grabbed for Ryan’s phone and once he proved the time for himself, he stood up. “C’mon dude, we’ll leave this nice lady alone.” Flashing a brilliant smile at the bartender, he pulled Ryan to his feet. “Where are ya staying tonight?”

Ryan looked at his feet. “Uh, honestly, I was planning on going home. But there’s no way I can drive right now so…”

Brendon made up his mind right there. “Dude no. You’re staying at my place. It’ll be just like old times, except this time we won’t be in bunks on the road!”

\--

Ryan paid for the cab and they stumbled into Brendon’s apartment, breathless with laughter. Brendon began to give Ryan the tour, showing him the kitchen and living room (while still laughing about old memories together), when they ended up in Brendon’s bedroom.

Ryan immediately noticed the queen sized bed. “Bren, you still with Sarah?”

“Engaged! We’re engaged, I proposed three months ago!” Brendon bounced around a bit like a puppy. Ryan smiled, he loved seeing Brendon so happy. Brendon was best compared to a golden retriever, Ryan decided. Incredibly loyal, easily forgiving, and always excited.

“Well congrats, I’m really happy for you.” Ryan smiled, and Brendon noticed it seemed forced.

There was a bit of a pause. Brendon was unsure if he should ask if Ryan was seeing anyone or if that was too personal; by the time he got the words out of his mouth, Ryan smirked like he was expecting the question.

“Uh, no, I’m not seeing anyone. There was this guy named William, but that ended a while ago and it’s just been me…” Ryan trailed off. “It’s okay though, I’ve been really busy at the firm and I barely even managed to make it over to attempt to see Spencer.”

“How are things at the firm? Gonna lawyer up on people soon? Hey, I saw Better Call Saul and his license plate says LAWYER UP, I think you should get that!”

Ryan laughed easily, the serious moment in his eyes gone, and Brendon felt a small rush of pride at his ability to make this stoic man laugh. “I’m not that big yet,” Ryan continued. “I think if I wanted to do that I would have gone to college out of high school rather than touring around with the band. I just barely started out after I passed the bar.” Ryan looked proud and spoke defiantly, as if begging Brendon to make fun of him. Brendon could tell he was proud, but missed his laid-back, weed-smoking, fun friend.

Speaking of weed… “Well nice dude,” Brendon started. “So if I smoke a joint right here and I get caught by the cops you can be my lawyer!” He went to the bedside table and pulled out a small Ziplock bag full of the smelly herb. After extracting rolling papers and a knocked-around Zippo, Brendon gave Ryan his own defiant look. “C’mon dude. It’ll make sure we aren’t hung over tomorrow.”

He could see the internal debate in Ryan’s mind, and finally Ryan answered. “I haven’t in so long, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

Brendon could see the indecision in his eyes and knew Ryan wasn’t fully saying no. “Okay then, come keep me company while I do!”

Strolling out to the living room and to the patio, he threw back the sliding glass door. Up here you could see the city’s lights but be far enough away from the bustle and noise. Brendon loved it up here. He remembered when Sarah and he had picked out this apartment, he’d spent the first week up all night on the patio, writing songs. He knew it would be perfect for Ryan too.

By the time Ryan joined him—he’d run to the bathroom first and splashed cold water on his face, little did Brendon know—Brendon had a messy attempt at rolling a joint. Sighing loudly and grinning, Ryan grabbed the mess from his hands. The brush of skin-on-skin sent a jolt of electricity through Brendon. 

What are you doing? He thought. Ryan’s my friend, and that’s it. Besides, all that kissy stuff we used to do was always just kidding around.

Right?

Ryan had unrolled the paper, rearranged the bud, and ran his tongue over it, sealing the paper closed. Brendon felt a deep ache somewhere inside him when he watched him gently lick the paper. Ryan caught his eye and looked somewhat embarrassed. “I was always better at this than you,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Brendon laughed and moved closer. Ryan put the joint to his lips and Brendon moved in to light it. 

\--

 

They were high. Brendon could barely drag his gaze away from the city lights to look at Ryan’s face and saw Ryan was looking back at him. Somehow they’d cuddled together like penguins for warmth; it was brisk outside but Brendon was so comfortable and so, so warm curled up in Ryan’s side. 

Brendon wanted to reach out and touch his face, and his fuzzy brain told him to go for it, so he did. Ryan jolted, well as much as one can jolt after smoking, and grinned back at Brendon.

“You know what, Ry?” Brendon asked softly. 

“What?” Ryan whispered back.

“I really missed you.”

A slight pause.

“I really missed you too, Bren. I’m sorry.”

\--  
Throughout the course of the night, Brendon’s hand found itself in Ryan’s, fingers entwined. Ryan had slouched down and had his head on Brendon’s shoulder, his eyes closed. Brendon watched the calm face of his sleepy comrade, and gently shook him awake. 

“Ry, get up. We’ve gotta go inside now or else we’ll freeze.” Brendon’s tongue had a hard time making out the words at first. He was still somewhat drunk and definitely still high.

Ryan’s eyes opened slowly and Brendon gazed into the honey depths. “I don’t wanna,” he mumbled.

“But you’ve gotta.”

“No.”

Brendon looked at him one more time before making up his mind. Thank god Ryan had still stayed skinny because it made it so much easier when Brendon hoisted him up and threw him over his shoulder, marching into the apartment.

“Bren! Put me down!” Now awake, Ryan struggled for a moment before he realized it was worthless and let Brendon carry him into the bedroom. Brendon deposited Ryan on the left side of the bed before falling into the right side. Before he closed his eyes, the last thing he saw was Ryan smiling back at him.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3—“BRRRRING, BRRRRING, BRRRRING.”

Brendon jumped awake and grabbed for his phone on the bedside table. Silencing it, he turned over and noticed the sleepy figure of Ryan Ross curled up in the bed. Ryan was stirring slightly and Brendon couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. So he didn’t dream up last night, thank god. He didn’t know if he could handle losing Ryan all over again. 

Brendon turned slightly and suddenly realized he was hard. Really, really hard. Morning wood was one thing but this was almost painful. He’d kicked off his jeans in the middle of the night and his dick was practically standing straight up, straining against his boxers. 

Fuck.

He stared down at his dick, willing it to go away. This would be so embarrassing if Ryan—

“Morning, Bren.”

Ryan’s sexy-soft morning voice only made Brendon harder. Pulling the covers up to his chin, Brendon tried to hide his blush and turned to his sleepy friend. Ryan had taken off his shirt in the night and stretched against the pillows, his bare chest beautiful and his arms wiry. It wasn’t fair how perfectly ruffled his bedhead was, or that his tired eyes still managed to sparkle. There was something about seeing Ryan Ross completely at ease that was driving Brendon absolutely crazy. How the fuck was he supposed to get out of bed now?

“I can’t believe this happened, but I’m really glad it did,” Ryan continued, oblivious to Brendon’s problem. “Fuck, I should probably get to work soon though. Shit, never mind. There’s no way I could make it, I’ll have to tell them I’m going to be late. Do you mind if I use your phone to call in? I think I left mine in your living room.”

Without waiting for an answer, Ryan moved closer to Brendon, propped himself up on an elbow, and leaned over Brendon. Brendon was dying inside, praying Ryan didn’t notice his raging boner as Ryan’s skinny chest brushed his own. 

Ryan grabbed Brendon’s phone off the bedside table and moved back over, taking the covers with him. Brendon didn’t notice until it was too late. And of course Ryan would look directly at Brendon to ask him the phone password when Brendon was exposed and Ryan’s eyes fell directly to the tent in Brendon’s boxers.

Brendon met Ryan’s eye, absolutely mortified and scared Ryan would jump out of bed right there. He coughed awkwardly and tried to fake a small laugh. “Uh, yeah, it’s the morning you know how this goes--”

And then Ryan Ross was on top of him. Ryan’s mouth met his with such a ferocity that somewhere in the back of his mind Brendon wondered how long he’d waited for this moment.

All thoughts slipped away as Ryan slid his tongue in Brendon’s mouth, however. Brendon grinded his hips into Ryan’s and was satisfied when he heard the small moan that escaped him. Ryan clawed at Brendon’s shirt and pulled it over his head. The skin-on-skin contact was amazing, fucking breathtaking, and as they continued to make out all those fantasies Brendon had pushed back about fucking Ryan came back to the surface.

Ryan had somehow managed to sleep in his jeans but Brendon wasted no time undoing the button and unzipping the zipper. Ryan’s own dick, now as hard as Brendon’s, sprung free in his boxers. Brendon hadn’t ever been this far with a guy before; sure, he’d made out with a few, but he’d never gotten to the pants-off stage. He’d been more into women after Ryan left the band, and besides from the occasional drunken makeout he stuck to pussy. But there was always that spot in his heart for Ryan, that occasional fantasy that would spring back to mind. So he wrapped his hand around Ryan like he would do for himself and started jerking him off, feeling Ryan stiffen in his hand.

Without wasting any time, Ryan pulled away from Brendon’s mouth—no, please don’t go, Brendon pleaded silently—and began kissing down his neck and chest. When Ryan kissed around the elastic of his boxers, Brendon thought he was going to explode right there.

Surprisingly gentle, Ryan pulled off Brendon’s boxers and Brendon’s dick sprung free. Brendon couldn’t help a little smirk at Ryan’s reaction to his dick: yeah, he was big.

“I’ve waited so long to do this,” Ryan said, his voice husky. He gently rubbed his hand against Brendon almost lazily, like he had no where else he’d rather be. 

But then Ryan started to lick up and down and Brendon lost it. When Ryan looked him in the eye and very slowly enveloped him in his mouth, Brendon was panting. Ryan sucked gently and tugged with his hand, and the warm wet velvet of Ryan’s mouth was absolute heaven. 

Brendon grabbed Ryan’s hair in his hands and slowly began thrusting in his mouth, fucking it, claiming it. Ryan subdued and allowed him to do so, swirling his tongue around Brendon, while he reached his own hand down to jerk himself off. It wasn’t long before Brendon realized he was close, god he was close. He picked up the pace, fucking Ryan’s mouth harder and harder and when Ryan finally came and moaned around Brendon’s dick Brendon exploded into a shuddering orgasm. 

Ryan licked his lips and swallowed, popping up to rest on his knees between Brendon’s outstretched legs. Brendon laid back and stared at the ceiling as the realization of what just happened set into him.

“Well fuck.”

Ryan blushed at Brendon’s comment and didn’t meet his eyes.

“I…um.”

A pause ensued where both men tried to gather their thoughts. Finally Brendon pushed himself into a sitting position and grabbed for Ryan’s arm, causing him to look up with those big doe eyes.

“C’mere.”

Ryan obeyed, sliding himself up until he was next to Brendon. Brendon pushed him back down onto the bed and pulled him into his arm, letting his head rest on the soft spot where his shoulder and clavicle connected. Ryan relaxed into him and Brendon couldn’t help but lean over and kiss the top of his head.

“We’re gonna fucking cuddle after sex,” he commented dryly, and Ryan burst out laughing, all earlier tension gone.

They stayed like that for over an hour, dozing on and off and talking when they wanted to. Brendon couldn’t get over how soft Ryan’s skin was on his, how bony yet muscular he was. 

“Let me ask you something,” Ryan said as they watched the sunlight stream across the ceiling.

“Shoot, cowboy.”

“Did you want this to happen back when the band was together?”

“Dude, of fucking course I did. But I was never totally sure; you’d tease the fuck out of me onstage with those tight jeans and almost kissing me and we’d cuddle all the time but you’d take other guys or girls back to your bunk so I never knew. I didn’t ever really know what you wanted, Ry. We were just dumb kids then, too. But I’ll tell you one thing: you definitely made me look boys in a different way.”

“To be honest, I wanted you the whole time. But I didn’t know if you wanted me or not, and Spence always told me to not fuck up the band, so I never made my move. But onstage, in front of everyone, I was just giving them what they wanted and shipped.”

Brendon scrubbed his face in thought, biting his lip. Ryan’s eyes flickered upward and rested on that perfect pink lip pulled between Brendon’s teeth and kissed it, pulling Brendon’s face back down towards his.

They made out for a while, slow and lazy. Brendon felt himself grow hard again—how was that even possible after that blow job?—and pulled Ryan fully on top of him, happy to find Ryan as stiff as he was.

Ryan pulled back and licked down his palm, grasping Brendon’s cock and tugging once, slicking him up. Brendon bucked his hips into his hand, already greedy for more.

Ryan moaned into Brendon’s mouth. “Slow, baby.”

Brendon responded with a moan of his own as their slicked-up cocks rubbed together. Ryan slowly started to thrust and Brendon’s head lolled back in utter pleasure. It was such a different feeling than straight sex, but so amazing as Ryan’s tongue was in his mouth. Brendon wanted to claim him; the part of him that had only had P-in-V sex for so long was wanting to thrust inside him and fuck him until he came, but he was clumsy and uncoordinated and way, way out of his element.

Luckily he didn’t have much time to worry as Ryan started to pick up the pace and their dicks rubbed together faster and faster. Brendon was close but he didn’t want this to be over just yet.

“Ry…” he huffed out. “Ryan, stop.”

Ryan stopped immediately, pulling back from Brendon’s mouth with wide concerned eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

Brendon laughed. “Fuck, no, nothing’s wrong. Shit, bad word choice. I, uh.” Brendon felt awkward, like a sixteen year old who had just gotten to second base and didn’t know what to do next.

“Can I suck you off?”

Ryan’s eyes widened and a grin spread across his face. He hopped off Brendon and laid back comfortably, his hard dick bobbing against his stomach. 

“Yeah baby.”

Brendon kneeled between Ryan’s legs and came face to face with Ryan’s shining dick. He tried to mimic Ryan’s excellent job earlier and licked up the shaft. Ryan’s head thumped back against the headboard. Brendon, always eager to please, jammed Ryan into his mouth and he heard the sharp intake of breath.

“Bren, gentle.”

Brendon immediately blushed and flicked his eyes up to meet Ryan. He pulled his mouth off.

“Fuck I’m sorry I haven’t—will you walk me through this?”

Ryan’s eyes softened. “Yeah baby.” A rush of gratitude shot through Brendon, ready to try again.

Ryan’s soft hands cupped Brendon’s face and led him back to his cock. Brendon opened his mouth and took him as far as was comfortable.

“Use your hand too, baby,” Ryan purred. Brendon curled his hand around the base of Ryan’s now throbbing cock, sucking up and down in unison with his hand. Brendon had never had a dick in his mouth before but it wasn’t unpleasant, just unfamiliar and he wanted to be cautious. He knew it was sloppy and he was probably using too much spit but when he met Ryan’s eyes they were filled only with total adoration.

Ryan’s moans urged him on and Brendon tried to take more of him into the back of his throat, suppressing his gag reflex until he was at the base of Ryan’s dick. Ryan moaned and fisted his hands in Brendon’s hair, his hips bucking up slightly as if he couldn’t hold himself back. Brendon gagged around him.

“Shit, shit, sorry baby,” Ryan gasped and pulled back out of Brendon’s throat. Brendon, however, wasn’t about to have that. He grabbed at Ryan’s hips and pushed Ryan back into his mouth. 

Brendon continued sucking and swirling his tongue around, listening to the words of encouragement from Ryan. “Baby,” he rasped. “Bren, I’m gonna come. Where do you want me to come, baby?” Brendon’s mind was already made up and he tightened his grip on Ryan’s hips and Ryan understood. 

“Look at me.” Ryan’s voice was harder and when Brendon’s eyes flicked up to meet his, Ryan moaned once more and pushed deep into his throat, come pumping out of his throbbing cock and deep down Brendon’s throat. Brendon took it, swallowing it all and feeling exhausted. He climbed back up to Ryan’s side and fell against the pillows, his own dick still half-hard.

“How was that?” Brendon couldn’t help but grin.

“For your first? Fucking incredible, Bren.”

Ryan glanced down at Brendon’s dick and gave him a mischievous smile before pulling Brendon’s face towards his and letting his hand slide back down to his dick. Brendon grinned into Ryan’s kiss.

On the bedside table, Brendon’s phone buzzed, unbeknownst to them. Sarah.


	4. Chapter 4

Brendon raked a hand through his hair and sat down on his bed with a huff.

 

Fuck.

 

One of the best nights of his life had quickly turned into the worst situation ever.

 

Ryan was still in the shower, blissfully unaware of the war zone that was currently Brendon’s mind. He held his phone limply in his hand, staring at that name on the screen over and over again. Within the five minutes that Ryan had been showering Brendon had unlocked his phone four times to only watch the screen go black again after it was idle. He couldn’t do anything, he was completely stuck.

 

When he’d first met Sarah he’d fallen head over heels for her immediately. It was unreal how quickly she’d claimed his heart, and he’d made a vow to himself that he would never, ever, hurt her. But Brendon could still taste Ryan in his mouth and feel his soft skin and bony hips under his hands, and the guilt was all-consuming.

 

It was just a mistake. A one time thing. They could get over this, hell, she wouldn’t even have to know. He recalled Jon telling him something like that once, that everyone’s allowed one freebie as long as they don’t keep it up. Then again, there was more rambling on after that about how humans weren’t meant to be monogamous and all that bullshit, but Brendon decided to only focus on the first part.

 

He hadn’t meant to do that with Ryan, but it was _Ryan Fucking Ross_ and he’d been waiting for that moment for so long.

 

He stared back down at the phone and gathered his courage. It was fine, nothing happened. Sarah didn’t have to know.

 

He’d just tapped her name and was beginning to call her when Ryan emerged from the bathroom, steam billowing out behind him like he was a god coming down to greet mortals. And Brendon couldn’t help but agree there, Ryan did look godlike when he had a towel slung low around his hips and his wet hair pushed out of his eyes. Ryan was grinning in that mischievous way and Brendon decided right then and there that without the bar lights or not, Ryan was one of those few lucky bastards that was constantly attractive, no matter the setting.

 

Ryan’s eyes moved to the phone in Brendon’s hand. “Who’re you calling?”

 

Brendon immediately panicked and pounded his finger on the little red “end call” button.

 

“Uh, no one. Just checking my voicemail.”

 

Ryan smirked. “That’s an old fashioned phrase if I’ve ever heard one.”

 

Brendon tried to return the grin, the light not meeting his eyes. “Yeah. How was the shower?”

 

“Amazing, and thank you again. I couldn’t stand to drive all the way back home being all grimy from the bar.”

 

Brendon offered a half-hearted grin. “Would you like to borrow some clothes?”

 

They both knew Brendon’s clothes would be too big on Ryan’s slim frame, and Brendon had offered because it was the polite thing to do, certain the other man wouldn’t accept. So it came as a surprise when Ryan responded with “Sure, thanks,” and Brendon found himself standing in front of his closet, pawing through the hangers for something that wouldn’t have Ryan completely drowning in it.

 

Brendon almost jumped when he felt the warm heat from Ryan’s body so close to his back. He inhaled sharply as Ryan wrapped a hand around his hip and pulled him back to grind his erection into Brendon’s boxers-clad ass.

 

“Why are you so stressed this morning, sexy?” Ryan murmured into Brendon’s neck. He couldn’t help his head falling back onto Ryan’s shoulder and a little moan that escaped his mouth as Ryan bit kisses into the tender skin. Ryan’s hand pushed under the front of Brendon’s boxers and found his dick, slowly jerking him to hardness. Brendon was stiffening and the thoughts from earlier were quickly fleeing his mind, the only thing he could comprehend was _Ryan_.

 

Brendon turned around and pushed up against Ryan’s chest, connecting their mouths as he clawed at the towel around Ryan’s waist. It fell to the floor and Brendon wrapped his hand around Ryan’s length.

 

Ryan bit Brendon’s lip. “Ever fucked a guy before, Bren?”

 

Brendon moaned sinfully into Ryan’s mouth; the words he was speaking were so dirty and so wrong and so goddamn right.

 

“No,” Brendon huffed back. “But I think I’d like you to be my first.”

 

Ryan smirked and continued making out with a renewed ferocity that left Brendon desperately trying to keep up. When Ryan broke away and sank to his knees—in Brendon’s fucking closet, no less—Brendon groaned.

 

“It’s easy,” Ryan purred, continuing their earlier conversation. He kissed the tip of Brendon’s dick lightly, leaving him panting for more.

 

“First, you’ll have to prep me,” he said before swirling his tongue around Brendon. Brendon had never been this hard ever, it was painful and he was practically begging for release.

“That means you’ll have to finger me, and use lots of lube. I want to be nice and wet for you,” Ryan continued breathily in between licks. Brendon had to put his hand on the wall to brace himself. Who knew Ryan could talk so dirty?

 

“Trust me, I can take it. I can take all of you, and I’ll be so fucking tight around your huge cock.” Ryan took all of Brendon in his mouth quickly at once, sliding all the way down to the hilt.

 

“Fuck!” Brendon yelled and he came so hard it was almost dizzying. Ryan, thankfully, obediently remained on his knees until Brendon was done and was leaning against the doorway, panting.

 

“I’m sorry dude,” Brendon panted out. “I didn’t know that was going to happen right now…”

 

“Oh don’t worry about it, happens to everyone,” Ryan said contentedly, getting up and grabbing his towel again. “I am going to go steal some of your mouthwash though.”

 

And with that, Ryan padded to the bathroom, towel in hand and Brendon’s eyes trained on his ass, leaving him standing around his clothes and wondering exactly how in the fuck this was happening to him.

 

\--

 

Ryan stood in Brendon’s doorway, dressed in his borrowed sweatpants that had been cinched in at the waist and an orange The Hush Sound shirt, his leisure suit from the night before folded over his arm.

 

“Well,” he started and then stared down awkwardly at the floor. Brendon couldn’t help but huff a laugh, this was the same man who had dirty talked and sucked his dick just an hour earlier but now was out of words to say for a very common exchange.

 

“It was nice to see you,” Brendon supplied lamely. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you to your car?”

 

Ryan shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. I could use a little walk in the sunlight.”

 

“Okay.”

 

They met each others’ eyes and then both looked at the floor.

 

“I’m still sorry I missed Spencer,” Ryan added quietly. “Do you have his phone number? Maybe I could call him?”

 

“Uh, I don’t think they’re allowed to have their cell phones at rehab. You know, bad for the healing process and all. But you could maybe, like, write him a letter?”

“Yeah, a letter,” Ryan grimaced. “What would I even say, ‘Sorry I am a shit friend and should have been there for you, also we haven’t talked in like years and it’s my fault, feel better soon’?”

 

Brendon bit out a small laugh. “Well that would get your point across at least.”

 

Ryan met his eyes. “I am sorry. I know I said it last night, but I mean it.”

 

“’S okay. No hard feelings,” Brendon mumbled.

 

Ryan took a step closer and, to Brendon’s surprise, flung his arms around him in a hug.

 

“If it’s okay with you, I think I’d like to be let back into your life. It’s a lonely one out there without a karaoke buddy or someone who will call just because you heard a Fueled By Ramen band on the radio.”

 

Brendon melted into Ryan’s hug. “Yeah…I’d like that, Ross.”

 

Ryan broke off the hug. “I should probably get going. Traffic, and I haven’t even called into work.” He made his way towards the door.

 

“See ya later, Brendon. Thanks for letting me stay.”

 

Brendon’s heart warmed at the sight of Ryan in his clothes. “You’re welcome any time. Drive safely.”

 

The door closed and Brendon looked around his big, empty apartment, thoughts of Sarah bubbling to the surface once more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ. So, because I'm awful and can't decide if this is an AU type thing or not, here's some explanation. Gabe Saporta is in this, but Cobra Starship has never been a thing in this universe (sorry!) so he's just Ryan's adorably annoying work friend. That should clarify things. Thanks for reading!

Ryan hummed happily as he sped along the interstate. Every once in a while he couldn’t help himself and his face would break out in a full grin, almost hurting his mouth.

 

He’d found Brendon again. And even better, he’d done things—sinful things—that he’d been waiting to do to that man for forever.

 

Ryan was happy with his life, sure. He could convince himself of that much more easily after a few drinks and a look at once of his paystubs, but sometimes when he’d go to pick up his guitar and play around, his fingers would slip from the chords much more easily and he’d have to concentrate hard, much harder than he used to.

 

He sighed, remembering the times where his hands flew over the neck of the instrument like magic, his brain and his hands working as a perfect machine to produce dancing melodies and he was free to simply bask in the sounds he was creating. Now whenever he tried to play he’d more often then not give up in a huff and toss the guitar away, upset with himself for forgetting such simple techniques after only a few years.

 

He’d tried to continue songwriting, but whenever he had the time to after a long day at the firm he’d find himself drained of all creativity and staring blankly at the paper. He longed for the days when the music streamed out of his fingertips and the words instantly came to his mouth, begging to be sung.

 

But now it was different. Ryan felt that spark again, faint and barely there. It wasn’t much, a rush through his tummy and his head felt full. But it was there. He could almost feel the old machines in his head grinding to life once again, testing out faint melodies and strumming patterns in his mind.

 

It was always Brendon that had stirred those feelings in him.

 

Back on tour, he used to stay up late after particularly energetic shows and write until the sun came up, trying desperately to capture his feelings in words. The way it felt when the band had hit the chorus at exactly the same time, the way Jon would look over at him with the biggest grin on his face, the way Brendon looked bouncing around onstage, the backbone beat of Spencer’s drums keeping them all together.

 

The first show that the crowd sang every lyric back to them, Ryan had stayed up all night trying to bottle that heady potion of amazement and pride and overall adoration for his bandmates at their ability to create something so beautiful.

 

Ryan snuggled into Brendon’s shirt, the lovely smell of fabric softener and just _Brendon_ bringing him out of his daydreams. He remembered exactly where they were when Brendon had picked up this The Hush Sound shirt, at a gig in Chicago that ended earlier in the night, leaving them enough time to rush over to see The Hush Sound.

 

Brendon had worn this shirt after they’d passed out together on their small tour bus, snuggled into each other’s warmth.

 

Ryan couldn’t help but wonder if that was the reason Brendon had leant him this particular shirt.

 

Almost an hour later Ryan pulled off the interstate and wandered through Bakersfield. It was certainly no LA, but it was big enough to offer the feelings of big city living. He had a life here, a reasonably well-off job at the firm, and friends.

 

What Bakersfield lacked, however, was Brendon.

 

Ryan drove to his apartment complex and parked his car in the garage. He stretched getting out of the car—an hour and a half drive will do that to you—and grabbed his things.

 

He fumbled his key into the lock and opened the door to his apartment, tossing his dirty clothes on the couch and wandering to his bedroom. The realtor who’d sold him on this place had described it as “urban chic” which was another term for “kinda messy but in a city.”

 

Ryan blushed, thinking of Brendon’s amazing apartment. He needed to remind himself that Brendon was still a decently famous musician, raking in royalties and album sales left and right. Ryan was proud of himself for even affording this apartment after putting himself back through school so he could snag his snazzy attorney gig.

 

He’d called into work on his way home and described his predicament, thankfully they were understanding and told him to come in when he could.

 

He dressed quickly in a smart looking suit and headed out the door, grabbing a banana to snack on. He smiled to himself softly, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything today at work.

 

\--

 

“How was your weekend, big guy?”

 

Ryan took his eyes off the computer screen and relaxed, his eyes strained from squinting at the tiny numbers on the bright screen.

 

Gabe practically sprawled onto Ryan’s desk. The lanky man just took up so much space. Frankly, Ryan was amazed Gabe could find his suits long enough to fit him, and in such colors. Gabe was like the office peacock, flashy and loud, and his skin was complimented nicely today by a deep purple suit.

 

Ryan rubbed his eyes. “The fuck’s up with the purple, you serving the queen of England today?”

 

Gabe just grinned and flung a leg up on Ryan’s chair, shimmied closer, and practically straddled Ryan. “You dig? All for you baby.”

 

“Gabe, get off me.”

 

Ryan blushed, because he actually did have a crush on Gabe. A very small one, albeit, and he was like 80% sure that Gabe was straight, and Gabe was his best work friend (and probably best friend, let’s be real), but Ryan couldn’t help the little rush of arousal at Gabe’s closeness.

 

Gabe, however, obeyed and climbed off. “Did you see your friend?”

 

Ryan sighed. “Sadly no, I missed him.”

 

“Fuck, I’m sorry dude.”

 

“Yeah, but it wasn’t all bad. I actually met up with, uh, with Brendon.”

 

“Like, _the_ Brendon?”

 

Ryan nodded and looked down.

 

Gabe looked aghast and started hitting Ryan’s shoulder. “Why the fuck didn’t you say something earlier?!”

 

“Gabe— _stop, get off_ —it just happened! I ran into him in a bar.”

 

“You ran into the Brendon Urie you’ve been in love with for forever at a bar. How in the fuck did that even happen?”

 

“Whoa, are we talking about your ex-bandmate, ex-lover, ex-best friend, yet super hot Brendon Urie?” Callie, Ryan’s office-neighbor, walked over and sat on the edge of his desk, stirring her coffee.

 

“Sup Cal, you’re lookin’ fine today,” Gabe commented, his eyes raking in her body. She flipped him off.

 

“Eyes off my ass, Saporta. Now, Ryan, I’ve missed this. Fill me in. All the dirty details.”

 

There was no way in hell Ryan was giving them all the dirty details.

 

Ryan opened his mouth, and Gabe interrupted. “Whoa Cal, so guys like Brendon are your type?”

 

“I’m with Ryan, okay, he’s hot! And he can sing--”

 

“You know, you’re right. I’d probably fuck him.”

 

Ryan stared at him. “Gabe, you have a girlfriend.”

 

Gabe shook his head. “Sorry, not anymore amigo. Ended it two days ago, I’m a free man once again.”

 

“Shit, sorry bro.”

 

Gabe waved a hand dismissively. “Maybe I’ll get a dude this time, you keep going on about how supposedly awesome dick is--”

 

“I do not!”

 

“BOYS!” Callie bellowed and clapped her hands. They both stopped their bickering and stared at her. She stirred her coffee once more.

 

“Not that I’m particularly enthralled in discussing Saporta’s sexuality, but can we please get back to the matter at hand here? Ryan, Brendon. Tell me everything.”

 

Ryan grinned and launched into the events of the last 24 hours to his captive audience.


	6. Chapter 6

Brendon was fucked. So fucked.

 

After Ryan had left he’d paced his apartment three times before flopping on the bed, heaving a giant sigh. He rolled onto the unmade side where Ryan had slept and pulled the pillow to his face, burying himself in the scent. He missed him already. But he couldn’t help the stabbing guilt he still felt.

 

Brendon actually groaned aloud then. He was suddenly overcome with a huge wave of impulsivity, snatched up his phone, and dialed Sarah’s number. She picked up on the third ring.

 

“Hey babe!” She was always so cheery and chipper.

 

“Hey, how’s it going?” Brendon asked uneasily.

 

“Pretty well, actually. I finished at my parents’ house early, so I’m on my way to lunch with Alex. You remember him, right? My childhood friend?”

 

“Oh yeah, I remember you told me about him. Sounds like fun.”

 

“You okay, Bren? You seem distant. What’s on your mind?”

 

Brendon sighed.

 

“Uh, I ran into Ryan.”

 

“Ryan Ross?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

There was a pause.

 

“Well honey, that’s nice. How’s he doing?”

 

Brendon grimaced. “Uh he’s good. He actually slept over; we were at the bars pretty late.”

 

“That’s nice dear, you’ll have to fill me in later. I’ve gotta go, I’m at the restaurant. Call me later. See you soon!”

 

The line went dead and with a sinking heart Brendon remembered he was supposed to fly out to met Sarah and her parents in just three days.

 

\--

 

Ryan had just finished up his last project of the day but his mind wasn’t relaxed yet. Words and numbers still flew around his brain, mentally preparing his day for tomorrow.

 

Gabe poked his head in Ryan’s office. “Yo, Ross, Cal and I were talking about getting some dinner tonight. There’s a new Mexican place opened downtown. You in?”

 

Ryan thought for a moment. His head was already feeling heavy from a long day and little sleep last night. Truthfully he just wanted to go home, jerk off to the memory of Brendon, and sleep.

 

“Sorry dude, not tonight. I’m exhausted.”

 

Callie stuck her head in, close to Gabe’s. “Are you not coming tonight?”

 

“Nah, he’s tired like a little baby,” Gabe commented dryly.

 

“If Ryan’s not going, I don’t really want to go,” Callie said.

 

Gabe looked offended. “What’s wrong with me? I assure you I am great dinner company!”

 

Callie laughed. “I didn’t really want to go anyway, sorry Gabe. I’ve got a lot of work to get done tonight and a bottle of wine and Frank are calling my name.”

 

“Who’s Frank?” Gabe practically yelled.

 

“Chill out Saporta, Frank’s my cat.”

 

“Oh thank god, I thought I had to fight yet another man for your heart.”

 

Callie scoffed. “’Another man’? Mind telling me who the first one is, because I would love to meet him!”

 

Ryan chuckled at his coworkers. “Gabe, leave her alone. I can’t do tonight, but what about on Friday? We could go to the Mexican place and get drinks after? We haven’t gone out in a while.”

 

“I’m in,” Gabe said almost instantly. Callie pondered.

 

“Oh come on, three days in advance, that’s enough time to tell Frank you’ll be home late Friday,” Gabe cajoled.

 

“Fine, I’m in boys. And I guarantee you I’ll outdrink both of you!”

 

\--

 

Ryan was settled into his couch and tearing into his meal. _Thank god for Seamless_ , he thought. There were some nights he just couldn’t be assed to cook.

 

After he’d finished his dinner and his second episode of _House of Cards_ , he strolled into the bedroom and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He’d always thought himself too skinny, too bony. Brendon’s shirt on him—yes, he’d put it on again as soon as he had gotten home—accentuated his skinniness. He tilted his chin up, looking deeply at his face. He’d always been called a “pretty boy” by childhood bullies, not that Ryan ever purposely dressed or looked that way. He couldn’t help it if he wasn’t very masculine, and when he used to put on eyeliner and grow his hair out he looked positively androgynous. It didn’t come as a surprise to anyone when he came out as gay. He could appreciate the beauty of a woman—like Callie, for example; she was a knockout—but he’d always been attracted to men.

 

Ryan tore his gaze from the mirror, done scrutinizing himself for the night. He laid down in bed and pulled his laptop over, pulling up Pornhub and finding a video. He shoved Brendon’s sweatpants down and freed himself, wrapped a hand around his dick, and began getting into it.

 

It was easy to imagine he was getting fucked by Brendon as he watched the two brunette men going at it. Lying there, in Brendon’s shirt, and imagining one of his favorite old fantasies was getting him closer and closer. He kept going, almost moaning out loud when he thought of Brendon’s weight on top of him, claiming him when his phone rang loudly, jerking him out of his fantasy and quickly losing all progress.

 

What great fucking timing.

 

Ryan considered leaving it ring and just continuing to masturbate, but he sighed and grabbed for his phone, staring in shock at the name on the screen: _Brendon Urie._

Ryan felt a wave of embarrassment flow through him, he’d just been jacking off to the very memory of the man and now here he was, calling. He slammed his laptop shut, abruptly cutting off the men’s sexual moans, and picked up the call.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey. Ryan.”

 

Ryan paused, his hand idly playing with his still hard dick. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Hey Brendon, what’s up?”  


“Nothing,” Brendon giggled. Ryan was confused.

 

“Brendon, are you… _drunk_?”

 

“Nope!” Brendon slurred, then broke down giggling again. “Okay Ry, okay okay, maybe a little.”

 

Ryan laughed a little and continued tugging at his dick. He felt a little remorse for using Brendon’s sexy slur to help continue his fantasy but he also didn’t really give a fuck.

 

“So, you’re drunk and you’re calling me. What was it you wanted, Mr. Urie?”

 

Brendon sucked in a breath at the ‘Mr. Urie.’ Ryan made note to use that later.

 

“Well, you see, I’m lonely,” Brendon drawled. “And I’d like you to come over and we could talk some more about everything we’ve missed out on in your life! You’re not still with Bill, right? No, no, you said that. BUT, I have beer and pizza and I miss you and we should catch up. Come over Ryan, okay?”

 

Ryan sighed at the mention of William, his ex. “Bren, it’s a weeknight. I have work tomorrow. And it’s an hour drive.”

 

“Ry, please?”

 

Ryan contemplated, groaning aloud.

 

“Please?”

 

“Brendon,” he laughed. “I have work! I can’t just—call off…”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I—okay. Fine. I’ll come over.” Ryan had always been a pushover when it came to Brendon, and Brendon knew it.

 

He could practically hear Brendon beaming through the phone, and that alone made it worth it. He quickly got off the phone and sighed, staring down at his dick. Praying he wasn’t about to give himself blue balls, he tucked it away. Maybe if he was lucky, Brendon would be the one taking care of that tonight.

 

\--

 

Brendon never really drank two nights in a row anymore, and especially not on weeknights, but he was lonely and bored and confused and a grown ass man who could do what he pleased. And he didn’t really mean to call Ryan, but after more than a few beers he found himself picking up his phone and before he knew it, Ryan had agreed and said he was on his way. And that was almost an hour ago.

 

Brendon had sprawled on the couch and relaxed until then, carefree, until he heard a knock on his door and anxiety coiled in the pit of his stomach. The knock seemed to sober him up some—or so he thought, until he stumbled while walking to the door.

 

There was never a more welcome sight than seeing Ryan behind that door. Sleepy, sure, but there was a light in his eyes that Brendon hadn’t seen in a while.

 

Ryan could barely get out the “Hi—” before Brendon’s mouth was on his, pulling him in the apartment and pushing Ryan back up against the door. Brendon’s hands wasted no time familiarizing themselves with Ryan’s body and Ryan responded accordingly, shoving his tongue into Brendon’s mouth and tasting the beer on him.

 

Brendon broke away, panting, and put his forehead against Ryan’s. Ryan was also breathing heavily and his eyes were dancing. He bit soft kisses into Brendon’s bottom lip, staring into his dark eyes.

 

“You fuck me up, Ross,” Brendon breathed out.

 

“I’ve wanted to do this with you forever.”

 

That was it. Brendon grabbed Ryan’s wrist and pulled him into the bedroom, pushing him down on the bed. Brendon crawled up between Ryan’s spread knees and they continued making out passionately, Ryan’s hands tangled in Brendon’s hair.

 

“Fuck,” Ryan huffed as Brendon moved to kissing his neck. Ryan started undoing Brendon’s belt and shoving the man’s pants down and tugging on his boxers. It was hard trapped at this angle and he could tell Brendon didn’t really know what to do with a dick, so he pushed Brendon off him and rolled on top.

 

Brendon looked up hungrily at Ryan before pulling him down to kiss again. Ryan pulled back and kissed Brendon’s neck while fumbling with his boxers and freeing his dick. Ryan always knew he was more submissive when he came to sex and he liked it that way. But with someone as inexperienced as Brendon he knew he had to take the reins. He pulled Brendon’s boxers off his legs and crouched, straddling his legs and took Brendon’s hardening dick into his mouth.

 

Brendon moaned loudly as Ryan swirled his tongue around his dick, bobbing slowly up and down all while maintaining eye contact. Ryan was certainly skilled with his tongue, Brendon thought, as he received some of the best head of his life. Brendon tangled his hands in Ryan’s shaggy hair and it was positively _sinful_ when Ryan smirked around his dick and then took him to the hilt, deepthroating him.

 

After a while Ryan pulled off and left Brendon panting for more. Brendon reached up to pull Ryan’s shirt off his skinny body and Ryan helped Brendon disrobe as well. Brendon rolled on top and attempted a messy, yet noticeably better, blow job. He was nervous—of course he was fucking nervous, here he was basically a _virgin_ for all intensive purposes, with Ryan Fucking Ross who he’d been dreaming about since he first discovered sex.

 

Brendon focused hard on Ryan, trying to mimic the man’s stellar performance again. After a few fumbles he found a groove and continued at it, rewarded by Ryan’s moans and hands clenching on his shoulders. He tried to deepthroat him but gagged loudly and quickly remembered the alcohol he’d drank that night—he didn’t want to see it all again, so he stopped that quickly.

 

“Stop,” Ryan finally whispered, and Brendon pulled off with a wet pop. Ryan’s eyes were glazed over and he was panting hard, a smirk forming on his face. “Bren, goddamn, you’re gonna make me come if you keep up like that.”

 

Brendon had never felt more proud.

 

The next words out of his mouth were things he’d wanted to say forever, he’d always wanted to try but never knew how to, and the liquid confidence in him finally pushed him to the edge and they tumbled out in a rough sentence.

 

“Iwannafuckyou.”

 

Ryan paused. “What?”

 

Brendon blushed heavily and cleared his throat. “Uh, I want to…I mean, if that’s okay, I don’t really know how this works…”

 

Ryan just stared at him blankly. Oh god, what if Ryan _wasn’t_ a bottom? What if he didn’t like Brendon like that or didn’t trust him. Brendon had just fucked it all up, he was sure of it.

 

“Wait, Bren—are you talking about sex?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” he mumbled, mortified even through his alcohol buzz.

 

Ryan grinned so huge it looked like it hurt. Brendon nearly slumped over with relief at the sight of his goofy ass smile.

 

“Yeah, I want to,” Ryan replied. “Have you ever done this with a guy before?”

 

Brendon shook his head no, completely out of his element. Ryan took pity on him.

 

“Here, I’ll help. Do you have lube and a condom?”

 

Brendon sprung from the bed in his eagerness, nearly knocking over the bedside table containing the condoms. He rifled through the drawer and returned with a pack of condoms and a rarely-used bottle of lube. Ryan grabbed the lube out of his hands with a grin and Brendon couldn’t help but feel a rush when their hands brushed. God, if he got this giddy from innocent touches he couldn’t imagine how it was going to feel when he was inside the man.

 

He watched in mild fascination as Ryan leaned against the pillows and spread the lube over his fingers. Then, slowly, he reached down in between his ass cheeks and found his hole. Ryan held eye contact with Brendon as he pushed a finger in and groaned lightly, and Brendon had never been more turned on in his entire life.

 

Ryan fucked himself with one, then two fingers for a while as Brendon grew impossibly hard. His dick was almost painful and he was absolutely desperate to bury himself in Ryan and release all the tension. Ryan’s eyes were half-closed as he prepped himself, all while keeping eye contact with Brendon. Brendon knew he couldn’t wait any longer, he had to do _something_ , and even if he was out of his element he wanted to learn.

 

“Can I, um, do that?” he asked suddenly. Ryan looked momentarily surprised but nodded and drew his fingers out.

 

“Yeah, c’mere,” he said in a hoarse voice. Brendon felt like he could hardly move with his hard dick in between his legs but he made it to Ryan and Ryan spread lube over his fingers.

 

Brendon tried to think of this as using the same techniques as fingering pussy. After all, it couldn’t be too different, right? The end game in both of those situations was to fuck. He slid his hand down to Ryan’s ass and surprised him by giving him a quick kiss before he gently slid a finger in. He slowly fucked him with two fingers and when Ryan hissed to add a third, he was so fucking turned on by watching him squirm around his fingers.

 

“Are you ready?” Ryan finally asked after Brendon’s dick was already leaking precome. If Brendon didn’t get in his ass _right fucking now_ he didn’t know what he was going to do. He withdrew his fingers and fumbled for the condom, sliding it on as Ryan drew his legs up on either side of him.

 

Brendon lined himself up and pushed in, marveling at the tight stretch around his cock. Ryan moaned loudly and that alone was already too much for Brendon, he had to still himself until he could get a grasp on his arousal. He slowly slid in and out, fucking Ryan with deliciously slow strokes. This was so different for Brendon, so wrong and so right at the same time. Watching the man he’d had fantasies about for years coming apart underneath him was all he’d ever wanted, and he picked up speed as Ryan pulled him down to make out. Ryan snuck a hand in between them and started to jerk himself off, getting closer and closer until Brendon thrust even harder and hit Ryan’s prostrate and Ryan became completely unglued, coming loudly around Brendon and splattering their stomachs. That was more than enough to send Brendon over the edge and he came, groaning out Ryan’s name.


	7. Chapter 7

Ryan’s phone dinged for yet _another_ time. He slowed to a stop at the red light at picked it up, seeing Gabe’s name on the screen about ten times. He’d ignored his phone all morning in bed with Brendon and was still riding his endorphin high. Brendon just brought out those feelings in him, and after some morning kisses paired with the incredible sex last night he was riding high.

 

He scrolled quickly through Gabe’s messages.

 

_Where the fuck are you dickwad?_

_Dude_

_C’mon don’t you dare not come in_

_I’m so bored_

_I don’t have anyone to talk toooooooooo come back_

_Do you think Callie would give me a chance?_

_She’s wearing that skirt again today_

_I do happen to like that skirt_

_Fuck it I’m taking lunch out of the office. I’M COMIN OVER ROSS. Better have a good explanation why you’re not at work. Be there in ten with tacooooooos_

Ryan glanced at the clock in his car. 12:24, and he’d be home in about ten minutes. Fuck. He had sex hair, was still sticky and vaguely lubey from the night before, and desperately needed a shower. He had on another one of Brendon’s T-shirts—at this rate, he’d be amassing a collection of them quickly. There was no fucking way he could see Gabe like this….

 

But, Gabe Saporta being Gabe Saporta, was waiting at Ryan’s door as Ryan strolled up.

 

Gabe shook the bag of Mexican food at him. “Dude. You look like hell.”

 

“Thanks, dick.”

 

“Where did you spend the night last night? Wait, don’t tell me—you were with Brendon!”

 

Ryan couldn’t help the blush that spread across his cheeks and Gabe smirked, knowing he was right. Ryan elbowed him out of the way and unlocked the door. Gabe was sprawled out on the couch, opening the taco bag before Ryan could even toss his keys onto the counter.

 

Ryan plopped down next to him heavily and reached for a taco. “Yeah, so what?”

 

“Well,” Gabe smirked again. “It seems like you had a good night for sure.”

 

“I did,” Ryan commented defiantly.

 

Gabe held up his hands. “No judgment, no judgment. I’m all for it, remember?”

 

Ryan sighed and nodded. “Yeah, sorry. I’m a little on edge, I didn’t sleep much last night.” He immediately blushed a deep red when he realized what he was implying and Gabe split into a full grin.

 

“So you got laid last night! Ay man, nothing wrong with that. At least one of us is getting some.”

 

“Oh yeah, what happened with Lauren?”

 

Gabe grimaced at the mention of his recent ex. “She was crazy! You’d never believe what she did….”

 

And Gabe and Ryan sat there, two best friends eating tacos and discussing each other’s love lives until Gabe looked up at the clock and realized he was due back at work an hour ago.

 

\--

 

Brendon stared into the empty suitcase, battered from seeing the baggage terminals of many airports. He tossed in a few essentials: socks, underwear, some shirts, not bothering to fold them. He stared at the disarray before sighing heavily and dropping down onto the bed.

 

The bed where he and Ryan had fucked less than 24 hours ago.

 

And here he was, packing a suitcase to see his fiancé.

 

More than anything he wished he could text Spencer, let him know what was going on with everything. Spencer would understand, fuck, he was one of the few who would, given Ryan and Brendon’s backstory. Brendon shook his head, he was supposed to be straight (forgetting about his late teenage years, of course), and here he was, fucking Ryan. Shit happens, right?

 

Brendon was continuing his pathetic attempt at packing when he got a text from Ryan.

 

_Hey. Last night was a lot of fun ;) How are you?_

 

 _I’m good_ , he wrote back, feeling the turmoil bubble inside him again. He hated to admit it but this was the first time he’d talked to Ryan sober and he felt so much more awkward and self-conscious.

 

_Good. So, do you want to go to dinner or get a drink sometime this week? I’d like to see you again._

 

Fuck. Fuck! Ryan had just asked him out. Didn’t he get it? Brendon had a fiancé. In fact, Ryan had _asked_ about Sarah! Was he just choosing to ignore it? Brendon shook his head, Ryan couldn’t possibly expect him to leave Sarah. These were just mistakes, happy accidents. But yet…Brendon _wanted_ to see Ryan again. There was that sense of comfort between them, but there was also a passion that he’d never experienced before. Touching Ryan set his senses on fire, nothing else existed except his skinny body and floppy brunette hair and those honey eyes. But he was Brendon Urie, who was engaged to Sarah, who loved Sarah. It just wasn’t right. Brendon realized he’d probably already taken way too long to respond, and slowly typed out one word.

 

_Yes._

 

\--

 

“So, it’s a date then?” Callie asked. Ryan stifled a yawn and downed the rest of his coffee.

 

“Well?” she demanded after he took too long to respond, and he grinned, teasing her.

 

“Yes! It is. Tonight.”

 

Gabe peeped his head over the cubicles separating them and mimed a blowjob with some impressive gagging sounds.

 

Ryan laughed. “Wait, is that me or Brendon?”

 

Gabe grinned back. “Both, baby.”

 

Callie scoffed. “You boys are _so_ immature.”

 

“C’mon Cal, you telling me you don’t give Bryan BJs?” Gabe’s eyebrows were almost to his hairline as Callie blushed a deep red and looked around. Conversations like this made Ryan so grateful they were the only ones in the cubicles, doing document review.

 

“I’ll have you know Bryan is very satisfied!” Callie hissed back.

 

“Your boyfriend looks like he’s most satisfied while he’s reading the encyclopedia and drinking tea,” Gabe commented dryly. Ryan couldn’t help but agree—Callie’s boyfriend was extremely dull, the exact opposite of his sassy-mouthed girlfriend.

 

Callie smirked. “Actually, he’s most satisfied when I’m tied up and he’s spanking me with a paddle.” And with that she turned on her heel and walked to the ladies’ room, leaving Gabe with his jaw dropped.

 

Gabe stared at Ryan, who was just as shocked as he was. “She’s gonna kill me Ry,” He groaned. “She’s gonna fucking kill me one day.”

 

\--

 

Dinner was going great. Ryan couldn’t have been happier. Conversation was flowing, the food was great, and Brendon looked so incredibly handsome in his button-down shirt.

 

Brendon swallowed a piece of his steak and flashed Ryan a look that made his dick twitch with arousal. “Last night _was_ fun,” he commented. “I’ve gotta admit, I thought about that for years.”

 

Ryan couldn’t help but giggle. “Me too. God, that was the biggest release of tension ever—pun intended.”

 

They reminisced more, talking all over the place until they landed on Ryan’s workplace. “You’d love Gabe, he’s like my best friend and he’s kinda crazy, but in a really good way. Hey! What’re you doing this Friday? Come out with us, we’re going out with our other friend Callie and they’d both love to meet you and we can stay at my place after!” Ryan’s excitement was almost palpable, and his eyes shone.

 

Brendon’s heart dropped into his stomach. He wasted time by taking a drink of his water and could barely meet Ryan’s eyes. The one topic he didn’t want to talk about had to be brought up.

 

“Uh, I’d love to, but I’m meeting Sarah on Friday…”

 

Ryan’s face fell. “Oh. I see.”

 

Brendon felt heated. “She’s my fiancé, I have to see her.”

 

“Are you going to tell her about us?”

 

The question hung unanswered in the air for way too long.

 

Brendon stabbed his steak with his knife, suddenly having no appetite. “What is there to tell?” he asked, not meeting Ryan’s eyes.

 

Ryan looked like he’d been slapped in the face. He leaned forward and hissed, “What is there to fucking tell? I don’t know, that we made love?”

 

“We didn’t make love, it was just sex,” Brendon mumbled instantly, feeling like the grossest human being in the world.

 

Tears sprung to Ryan’s eyes as he gaped at the other man.

 

Brendon continued. “Dude c’mon, it was a one time thing—it needed to happen—I, I can’t, I’m in love with Sarah, I have her. This is just something that needed to happen and it did and can’t we just forget about it?”

 

“I can’t—”

 

“I still want to be fri--”

 

“Don’t you _dare_ hit me with the ‘I want to be friends’ bullshit. _Don’t you dare_.”

 

Brendon finally risked looking up at Ryan and regretted it. Tears were streaming down his face silently and he was red with rage and hurt. Brendon was frustrated himself, didn’t Ryan get it? How could he not?

 

“Ryan, what did you think I was going to do? Leave Sarah? We’re engaged, this was an accident, let’s be mature and just move on.”

 

“Fuck you,” Ryan spat and shoved his chair back. Brendon stared at his food and when he finally looked up again Ryan was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

“Babe!” Sarah squealed and threw herself in Brendon’s arms. Brendon was tired and stiff from the plane ride and somewhat annoyed at his fiancé’s overzealous greeting—they’d only been apart a week, not a whole month. But, being Brendon, he caught her and spun her around, much to her delight, before setting her down. Onlookers smiled at them as they bustled with their suitcases, thinking the attractive couple’s greeting was cute.

 

Behind Sarah, her parents waited. Brendon tugged his suitcase towards them and shook her father’s hand and hugged her mother. Mr. and Mrs. Orzechowski were good people and had always treated Brendon like their own son. They chatted on their way home but Brendon’s heart wasn’t in it. He and Sarah held hands in the back of the car like teenagers but it felt wrong; Sarah’s hands were too soft and too small and they lacked the long spider-like fingers. Brendon pulled away and blamed it on the heat.

 

\--

 

Ryan was three margaritas deep and it was only 9:30. Callie and Gabe listened with equally horrified expressions as he finished recounting the dinner date gone wrong, and when he was finished Callie slammed her (fourth) margarita glass onto the table, sloshing it onto Gabe’s hand.

 

“Watch it Cal!” Gabe yelled. “Okay, let me get this straight—you guys hooking up ‘meant nothing’? Is he fucking delusional?!”

 

Ryan nodded grimly. “I’ve been turned down in a lot of shitty ways before—“

 

“That’s because men are shit, Ry—“

 

“Thanks Callie, but yeah, I’ve never been fucked then turned down like that. He admitted to me that he’d fantasized about this since we were in the goddamn band, then we finally do it and he gets scared and runs off to be the perfect little straight boy all over again, afraid of commitment!”

 

Callie covered his hand with hers. “Don’t take this as patronizing, because I’m really not trying to be,” she slurred slightly. “But he’s engaged to a woman and you just came back into his life.”

 

Ryan was granted time to cool off as their waiter came around again and they all ordered another drink. The terrible dinner date was only last night and Ryan’s wounds were still very raw and he could barely wait through work to get shitfaced with his friends and gush to them about everything. The trio fell silent until their waiter left and then all started back up again at once, talking over each other in their haste to trash talk Brendon Urie.

 

Gabe’s booming voice drowned the other two out. “Ross, okay, let’s think about this. Don’t get offended here, but you guys have only been seeing each other for what—a week?”

 

Ryan opened his mouth and closed it, faltering. He hadn’t thought of that, but Gabe had a point. They’d only been talking again for a week, truthfully. But it had felt like so much longer given their history together and everything they’d been through. In a way, a small part of him realized how correct Gabe was; Brendon had been living his own life, ignorant of everything until a week ago when fate caused them to fall together again.

 

Callie’s gaze was soft as she turned to Ryan. “Gabe has a point. Brendon’s probably scared. Think about it, you basically turned his whole life upside down—“

 

“He wanted it too! He started it!”

 

“I’m not saying he didn’t. But he had his whole life figured out, basically, and all of a sudden he’s questioning everything. I bet he has a million emotions running through his head right now, probably wondering if he’s making the right decision with Sarah, with you, with everything. He needs some time, and that’s why he ran back to her.”

 

Ryan rested his head on Gabe’s shoulder and heaved a heavy sigh. “I’m just so worried. What if I fucked it all up? I can settle for being friends again. I just missed him so much, and now I fucked it all up because I rushed him.” Ryan sniffed loudly, trying (and failing) to nonchalantly brush away tears. Gabe flung as lanky arm around his friend and snuggled him in.

 

“It’s okay. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

 

“I just missed him so much while he was gone and having him back in my life is amazing. Should I text him?”

 

Callie paused. “No. Let him contact you first, he’s got some stuff he’s gotta sort out.”

 

The trio fell silent, Ryan in despair and his friends sadly concerned for him. After moping around for a few more minutes, Gabe smacked his hand on the table.

 

“Enough of this! It’s Friday night, we’re goddamn adults with real ass jobs and real ass stress. I’ve been waiting all week for this. We’re getting drunk if it’s the last thing we do. _Discúlpeme señor_!” Their server stopped by their table again.

 

Ryan loved listening to Gabe speak Spanish, it flowed and sounded so natural and beautiful. The first time he heard him speak Ryan was shocked, he didn’t really take Gabe for being _cultured_. Some things about him just screamed “former frat boy,” so when he heard Gabe’s Uruguayan history he was surprised.

 

“ _Tendremos tres margaritas mas, por favor_.” He turned to Ryan and Callie. “ _Vamanos_ , let’s get wasted!”

 

\--

 

Brendon poked at his steak with his knife, painfully aware of how different the situation was the last time he was eating steak. But this time he was in the cozy kitchen of Sarah’s parents, Steve and Beth, and he was miserably trying to be happy. There was a guilt in his stomach that he couldn’t get over—he was surrounded by good food and people that loved him, normally he’d have been thrilled, bouncing around with his usual charismatic energy. But not tonight, tonight his mind had wandered back to a ghost of a feeling he’d left behind at a restaurant in California.

 

“Brendon?”

 

He snapped out of it. “Sorry, what was that?”

 

Beth smiled at him, all motherly glow. “My, you’ve got a lot on your mind tonight!”

 

Brendon blushed. Fuck, they’d noticed. He hadn’t realized before but it took a lot of energy to be Brendon Urie. Luckily, Sarah saved him with an excuse.

 

“You writing songs in your head again babe?” she laughed. He smiled gratefully at her. “You always get that look when you’re writing, I know it!”

 

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t realize it was noticeable,” he said.

 

“Oooh, well I can’t wait to hear this one!” Beth said excitedly. “I’m always so impressed hon, I don’t know how you can do that. Just write up songs like that in your head, it’s so—cool!”

 

Steve began a story about how one of his friends used to be a songwriter for a famous rock band and Brendon was off the hook, his mind free to wander back to Bakersfield, where he wondered what Ryan Ross was doing with his Friday night, and wishing he was there.

 

\--

 

“F-fuck,” Ryan laughed, an arm slung around Callie and one stretching to reach around Gabe. They’d moved to a bar two hours ago and it had turned out Gabe had gotten his wish—they were shitfaced drunk.

 

“There!” Callie pointed and helped attempt to maneuver them towards the recently vacated booth. They fell in heavily and Gabe landed facedown directly in Ryan’s lap, causing Callie to howl with laughter.

 

“Hey, while you’re down there how about a blow job?” Ryan yelled.

 

Gabe smirked back up at him. “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you? I’d have you coming in two minutes!”

 

“Is that a challenge, Saporta?”

 

Gabe glanced up at him with dark eyes and Ryan felt a rush southward. _Chill out_ , he thought to himself. _He’s just kidding, do not get a boner right now unless you wanna make this fucking awkward._ Gabe took a long time to peel himself off Ryan, and was Ryan just drunk or did Gabe leave his hand to linger on his thigh for just a second too long?

 

Callie, oblivious to Ryan’s inner monologue, broke the spell. “Why do you guys hate my boyfriend so much? Like, come on, I am a total sex goddess with him!”

 

Gabe and Ryan shared a look: _yep, she’s wasted_.

 

“Come on Cal, it’s time to go home,” Ryan said.

 

“What! We just sat down!” Callie protested.

 

“Yeah, but it’s also—jeez, it’s 2:30, we’ve gotta get going!”

 

“I just called an Uber,” Gabe commented. “Sorry Cal, but we’ve gotta get going.”

 

After much grumbling they got her to her feet and the trio was stumbling along towards their ride home. Ryan had to give the directions to their driver, who looked less than pleased that Callie was insisting she had to have the window down. They both walked Callie to her front door and ensured she got inside before they collapsed back in the back of the car.

 

“Where to now, sir?” their driver asked.

 

Ryan’s head lolled back against the seat and he heard Gabe’s scratchy voice direct the driver to Ryan’s apartment. He fell asleep with the night breeze caressing his face and awoke to Gabe shaking him.

 

“Dude, we’re at your place,” he said.

 

“Shit,” was all Ryan said back.

 

Gabe laughed and actually pulled Ryan closer to him. “Uh, sorry, but can you wait while I take him inside?” he asked the driver with a huge grin.

 

“I’m not a kid, I can do it myself,” Ryan grumbled but before he knew it Gabe had undone his seatbelt and Ryan was on his feet outside the car, propelled forward with Gabe’s hand in the small of his back.

 

Ryan unlocked his door and they both fell on his couch as fast as humanly possible.

 

“How did I get this fucking drunk,” Gabe laughed and Ryan joined him wholeheartedly.

 

“Dude…the Uber,” Ryan said. “It’s gonna leave.”

 

Gabe pulled himself into a sitting position and peered through the blinds. “Fuck! It already did!”

 

This sent Ryan into hysterics and pissed Gabe off. “How am I gonna get home now?”

 

“Just sleep here, it’s already three.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yeah, I’ve got a comfy ass couch.”

 

“Ross, do you really think I’m going to fit on your couch?” And to prove his point Gabe stretched out, legs in Ryan’s lap, and feet dangling off the end. “My feet are totally off, the monsters are going to eat them!”  


“You diva,” Ryan said. “Fine, you can sleep in my bed.”

 

“Now that’s much better.”

 

With great effort they peeled themselves off the couch and staggered to Ryan’s bedroom. Ryan was already regretting how he was going to feel tomorrow, tequila never made for a pretty morning after. They both made to go through the doorway at the same time and somehow Gabe ended up pressed against Ryan’s chest, causing them to both laugh, squeezed in the small doorway.

 

Except…Gabe wasn’t moving. He was staring down at Ryan with those beautiful dark eyes and Ryan felt the familiar rush of arousal, feeling himself grow hard.

 

“Gabe?” Ryan asked quietly.

 

“Yeah?” he responded huskily.

 

Ryan was grasping for the right words but it was hard when he was so distracted by everything the tall man was doing. Finally, he decided to just tilt his face upward and stare back at Gabe, licking his lips slightly. Gabe groaned and closed the distance, one hand slipping up to cradle Ryan’s face and the other pressing against his erection, causing Ryan to jump a little.

 

Gabe was a fabulous kisser— _he’s obviously had a lot of practice_ , Ryan thought as he slipped his tongue into his mouth and his hand continued to rub him through his jeans. Gabe finally drew back and Ryan was left shocked and panting.

 

“Gabe…what was tha—“

 

“Holy fuck, Ross.”

 

“Um.”

 

Gabe took Ryan’s hand and pulled him into the bedroom.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the shortest chapter ever so sorry but I also don't know if anyone even actually reads this lol

Sarah was on top of Brendon, kissing him passionately and rocking her hips against his but it was no use, Brendon still wasn’t hard. In fact, he was soft, panicking in his mind about not being able to get it up and causing that to actually be a problem.

 

Sarah rolled off him and crouched down. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix this,” she smirked and brought his dick into her mouth. Brendon closed his eyes and tried so hard to focus on, well, getting hard. Sarah was putting up a great effort and he could feel himself starting to harden in her mouth. Brendon closed his eyes and an image of Ryan in a similar position danced behind them, his hair mussed up from sex and his lips swollen and red and fucking kissable as they were wrapped around his cock. Brendon moaned and snaked his hand through Ryan’s hair and pushed his head down onto his dick, except, wait, this hair was too long—

 

Sarah gagged, a gross, ugly sound, not the sexy gag that Ryan had given him earlier, and Brendon’s eyes snapped open and he quickly pulled his hand back, his disheveled fiancé gagging still and glaring at him with watering eyes.

 

“What the fuck?” she hissed, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands and staring at him like he’d lost his mind.

 

Brendon stuttered, his dick was quickly wilting in her grasp now that the façade was shattered. “Uh,” he tried. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

 

“You fucking choked me, you know I hate that shit!”

 

Brendon was blushing hard. “I’m so sorry babe, I didn’t mean to, I don’t know what came over me.”

 

Sarah glared sideways at him still. She was totally naked and while Brendon could admire the beauty of her body and those incredible tits and tight ass, he couldn’t focus on anything that wasn’t Ryan’s skinny body. Sarah looked down at Brendon’s soft dick and sighed, disappointed. “So I’m guessing this isn’t happening tonight,” she said.

 

If it was possible for Brendon to blush harder, he did. _This is so fucking embarrassing_.

 

“What is wrong with you tonight?” Sarah asked bitterly.

 

Brendon scrambled. This night was completely going to shit. He had convinced himself that he just needed to see Sarah and he’d be able to put this whole Ryan mess out of his mind and they’d be able to go back to normal. But they’d been off since the moment they saw each other, and it wasn’t for Sarah’s lack of trying, but for his own. For some reason he couldn’t get the other man out of his head.

 

He let his head fall back onto the pillow and looked around Sarah’s childhood room. She obviously hadn’t redecorated since she’d moved out, and posters with bands like Fall Out Boy and The Academy Is…still decorated the walls.

 

“I’m sorry, it’s a little hard to be in the mood when your parents’ bedroom is right next to us. I feel like a fucking teenager,” Brendon snapped at her. He watched his fiancé’s eyes flash with hurt and embarrassment, and all that did was make Brendon feel even worse.

 

They sat quietly for a moment as Sarah pulled her clothes back on and wordlessly tossed Brendon his boxers. Then, as it always goes, they both tried to speak at once. Sarah waved Brendon on.

 

“Go ahead, what were you saying?”

 

Brendon, heart going a million miles an hour, swallowed. “I have something I think I should tell you.”

 

Sarah nodded. “I have something I should tell you too.”

 

He knew that his news would overtake hers so quickly, so he decided to let her go first. “What?”

 

Sarah hesitated before breaking into a huge grin. “Firstly, I wanted to apologize if I’ve been snappy lately. I’m just dealing with a lot. And I really wanted to wait to tell you this, but I think you’ll understand everything a lot more once I do. And I know this isn’t going to fit in our five year plan, and we’ll have to move the wedding closer, but this is a true blessing and I’m so excited to share this with you! And I wanted to tell you in a better way but I just can’t wait.”

 

Brendon’s heart sunk completely and his palms were sweaty. The way she was talking, about moving the wedding and their plan, this all sounded like a very big problem was about to get even bigger.

 

All of his fears were confirmed when Sarah grabbed his hand, kissed him quickly, and made her announcement.

 

“Brendon, honey—I’m pregnant!”

 


End file.
